Philos
by gryffindormischief
Summary: The best gifts are from the person who knows you best.


A/N: this fluffy, mess of a fic, is for julxr4/julx3tte in congratulations for some good news :) I hope you enjoy the collarbones, puns, and whatever other pointless things I managed to weasel in here

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Harry's halfway off to dreamland when the front door clicks shut, the deadbolt sliding home with a dull thud. He snuggles further into the cushion beneath his head and sighs, "Hi Gin."

Calloused fingers find their way into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "Hey there, Mr. _Weasley_."

And he's _definitely_ not imagining the way her voice drops, a little breathy in that way it always gets before _very_ good things happen.

Twisting onto his back, Harry grabs for her hand and brushes his thumb over the freckles that litter her knuckles. He hums, "Missed you – had to do something."

She rounds the couch, keeping her grasp on his fingers, and squishes her way onto the cushion near his ribs. "Sorry, I had that thing with Lee and then a strategy meeting with Demelza."

Harry smiles softly, "Of course, I wouldn't want you facing down the press corps without a plan of attack."

Ginny snorts and leans forward to press her lips to his. "Though my svelte husband standing off to the side scowling usually does keep them in line."

"He's a real piece of work, eh?"

" _My_ piece of work," Ginny murmurs, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

He presses up on his elbows and grins, eyes flashing, "S'what my jersey says."

The evening news program sounds from the wireless, a blissfully easy day for Wizarding Britain that Harry sometimes worries he doesn't appreciate enough, given what their lives were, what they could have been, less than a decade ago.

Shuffling back, he presses his back into the corner of the couch and tugs Ginny 'til she settles into his lap and his forehead finds hers. "You hungry?"

Her lips find the corner of his mouth, slide hot and warm to his jawline as she hums, " _Yes_."

With a groan, Harry wriggles back down, his green and gold jersey riding up his back while Ginny lets her knees frame his hips. Harry's fingers begin working the buttons of her flannel open, tips brushing the smooth skin of her midriff. He nips at her earlobe and murmurs, " _The_ crop top?"

She sighs when his palms skate up her spine, dropping down to her forearms so she can nibble at his neck. "I was hoping you'd be home in time to enjoy it."

Slipping the flannel from Ginny's freckled shoulders, Harry drags one hand gently toward the back of her neck, kicking up goosebumps in his wake as he guides her closer to his lips. "I was hoping the same."

Ginny's breath catches in her throat as Harry's ministrations rise beyond the hem of her top. Still, she's got enough presence of mind to recall exactly how to turn him to putty, her nose brushing along his collarbone as she murmurs, "And what was your plan, for _after_?"

Pushing the fabric up higher, Harry lets his haze linger before holding eye contact meaningfully, "I assumed we could work something out together?"

Mouth catching his, warm and heated, Ginny barely pulls a breath away when she whispers, "I'm a big fan of teamwork."

Groaning as she presses against his more firmly, Harry sits forward, tugging her top off. "That's what gets you the big bucks, eh?"

Ginny hums, "No more talking."

At some point, they _had_ managed to stumble their way to the bedroom, luckily for Harry's back. Ginny's still sprawled over his chest, fingers running circuits up and down his sides, her knees bracketing his thighs, when his stomach grumbles loudly into the stillness. She snorts against his neck, laying lazy kisses across his damp skin as she murmurs. "Hungry?"

"You, Ginny Weasley, take a lot out of a person," Harry chuckles, fingers carding through her hair while her breathing slows.

Snuggling closer against him, Ginny grumbles, "I'm not correcting you anymore – I know you do it on purpose."

Harry noses at her temple until her face is tilted toward his enough that he can claim her lips in a delicious, heated tangle of a kiss. Barely a breath away, Harry whispers, "I like when you say it."

Ginny hums, "Say what?"

In a sudden move, Harry flips Ginny onto her back and shifts so his chin is pillowed just below her diaphragm. "Don't toy with me, _Mrs. Potter_."

Her eyes darken a bit and Harry presses his lips to her bare skin. "I saw that – you like it too."

Kneading at Harry's shoulders, Ginny sighs softly as he continues his slow ministrations down her middle. "I like _us_."

Harry nuzzles her belly, nipping at a stray cluster of freckles just over her left hip. "Me – "

A rumble from her stomach cuts him off, loud and quaking as his own and he drops his forehead do her abdomen. "Much as I'd _like_ to continue this discussion, it seems dinner is in order."

After a few more moments of Ginny's special brand of delaying, Harry collapses back onto the rumpled bed sheets and fumbles for his wand. The phone's already in his hand when he turns to Ginny, "Thai alright?"

Ginny hums, tugging his earlobe with her teeth as she murmurs, "I _am_ in the mood for something spicy."

"You're the worst," Harry groans, thumbing the third number on speed dial.

"Oh how your tune has changed in the last quarter of an hour," Ginny muses, "I had it on good authority that I was a – what was it? A _goddess_?"

The line rings and Harry whispers, "I don't recall anything of the sort," before ordering their usual.

Once the line's disconnected, Ginny spends the three quarters of an hour until their food arrives reminding Harry exactly _why_ he likened her to an otherworldly being. Harry tears himself away when the bell rings, finding his pants somewhere in the hall and tugging them over his slim hips. After finding his wallet tucked in the pocket of his work robes, Harry pulls the door open, accepting the overlarge order and tipping the delivery boy well enough that he doesn't feel too bad for his less than stellar conversation attempts.

By the time he's brought their spoils back to the bedroom, Ginny's tidied the bed somewhat and sadly claimed one of his well-loved t-shirts for herself. "Feed me my gallant knight."

He snickers, securing the take out at the foot of the bed while he crawls onto his side of the mattress. They each claim their entrees, snapping their chopsticks apart and tucking in with vigor won of extensive _exercise_ over the past hours.

They've managed to demolish most of their dinner when Ginny props her temple against the headboard and prods Harry's leg with her toes. "You should sleep now."

Harry furrows his brow. " _Why_?"

"I interrupted your nap. You were pretty out of it, dear," Ginny drawls, swiping a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"I think I woke up alright, don't you?"

Laughing lightly, Ginny leans forward and presses her lips against his, short and chaste. "You work too hard, my love."  
"I – "

"And before you try and say something stupid and heroic," Ginny cuts in slashing her hand through the air, " _I'm_ not the only one who thinks so."

"Your mum – "

"Is _not_ the someone I'm referencing," Ginny growls, "I'm trying to do a _thing_."

Harry prods her cheek, puffed out as it is with her patting. "Which is?"

She slaps his hand away, "I'm _trying_ – you wanker – to tell you this is the first day of our holiday week."

His jaw drops while Ginny continues to frown, "And now you _ruined_ my big reveal."

"We already had a couple of big reveals tonight, eh?" Harry tries, fingertips brushing her bruised knee, but when her eyes roll skyward, he knows he's truly stepped in it, so he bows his head, contrite. "I'm sorry I'm – _me_."

"Don't," Ginny sighs, a smile ticking up the corners of her lips, "For some reason, I like you."

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Harry drags her close so she's tucked cozily against his chest. "A week – you really _are_ a goddess."

"Glad you've finally noticed."


End file.
